


It's Funnier In Enochian

by forbala



Series: from fanfiction.net [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 17:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbala/pseuds/forbala
Summary: Dean needs a little help learning a new language.





	It's Funnier In Enochian

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to fanfiction.net on May 27, 2012. Minor grammatical edits but no content changes.

Dean sighed as he dropped the match into the bowl and the ingredients flared up. He turned to see Crowley and plastered on a smile. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

“What can I help you with, O great Winchester?” Crowley said, looking like he hated this just as much as Dean did.

“Why do you assume I need help?”

“What else do you ever bother me with?”

Dean conceded that point silently and approached the demon. “Are you fluent in Enochian?”

“Just about. Why?” he asked, taking a seat.

“I, uh—there’s this person I know who really loves Enochian and—she,” Dean said, emphasizing the pronoun deliberately and raising his eyebrows, and received a confused look from Crowley, “is really attractive. I want to get some like—pick up lines in Enochian, maybe.”

“Uh huh. And does this person happen to be a certain little angel pet of yours?”

“No!” Dean looked every bit the guilty child as he crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged his shoulders awkwardly.

“Right.” Crowley nodded and sat up straighter. “Let’s get started then. What were you thinking?”

“What? That’s it? No deals or or—”

“Nope. I’m just that nice. You said pick up lines? You looking for sex or a little something more?”

“Well, I guess both. Sex would be nice.”

“Okay, here’s a good one,” he said, proceeding to feed Dean several lines and their translations while Dean wrote them down phonetically.

They spent nearly an hour going over various pick up lines and their merits—funny, raunchy, clever, even clichéd lines. Crowley also translated a few of Dean’s favorite Earth lines.

“Is that all you want? Just crappy pick up lines?” Crowley asked eventually.

“Well, there is one more thing. I, uh, I wrote something.” Dean blushed as he passed a paper over to the demon, who read it through twice before translating it aloud. Dean wrote it down and recited it back, over and over again until it was perfectly pronounced and memorized.

Finally, Crowley smirked (Dean didn’t think demons could smile) and said, “You’re ready kid. Go get ‘im.”

“Her.”

“Right.”

“You better not punking me with this translation.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Ta,” Crowley said, saluting and vanishing before Dean could push further. Dean rubbed a hand over his face and paced the room, reciting the lines to perfection and practicing his definitely-not-a-speech until the sun was several degrees above the horizon. At last he felt satisfied and laid down for a short nap.

When he was fed and rested and had reviewed what Crowley had taught him, he stood in the middle of the room and said loudly, “Cas! Castiel! Come’re! Caaaaaaassss!”

“What, Dean? What’s wrong now?” Cas snapped from behind the hunter. Dean spun around quickly, repressing a genuine smile. Castiel didn’t look as pleased.

“ _Let’s play house: you be the door and I’ll slam you all night_ ,” Dean said in Enochian, praying that Crowley hadn’t screwed him over and grinning in the way that nearly always got him laid.

“I don’t understand. When did you learn Enochian?”

Dean ignored him and barreled on. “ _Was your father a baker? Because you’ve got a nice set of buns_.”

“No, my father is the Lord God, the Creator. He rarely bakes.”

Obviously Dean had to turn it up a notch if Cas was ever going to get the message. He recited several Enochian lines, one after another without giving Cas time to respond, and eventually saying, “ _If you breed with the mouth of a goat, I volunteer as goat. You raised me from perdition, and you raised something else too_.”

“Dean, are you propositioning me for sex?” Castiel asked after a moment of examination.

“Yes, I am. But there’s more. I—well.

“ _We’ve been through a lot together and it hasn’t always been pleasant. Okay, it’s rarely been pleasant. But despite all the pain and blood and world-ending threats to humanity, it’s been okay because of you. And I don’t just mean all the times you saved our asses, but thank you for that. I just like it when you’re nearby. I like being around you more than I like being around anyone else. You’re my friend, the only friend I’ve had outside my family. You’re the only person I can spend any time with outside my family, spend time doing things other than hunting. I love you, Cas. Not like a brother and not like a friend, and more than I ever loved any woman_.”

Dean shifted nervously and waited for Cas to do something, say something, show some sign of his feelings. After a few seconds of silence, he said in English, “So, what do you think? I swear to god I’ll gank Crowley if he made me say something dumb.”

Castiel cracked a small smile, said, “That’s blasphemous,” and walked over to Dean, taking his hand and leaning in to kiss him. Dean smiled into the kiss and he felt Cas smiling too, so that their kiss was really more like a clashing of teeth but Dean loved it. He thought it was perfect.


End file.
